an act of creation

we were beautiful together: an act of creation

crafted with calloused hands and too much hope.

there was a moment, that winter, where

i spoke of forever like a promise.

we write our stories in hand-stitched notebooks

lying side by side on the page, writing about the rain

last tuesday, the mascara that dripped down your cheeks,

how i fell more and more in love with you each time we kissed.

there was a moment, come spring, where we tried

to mend our hearts with paper kisses, glitter

and too much glue but they fell apart by nightfall,

ripped to shreds by sunrise.

there was a moment, come summer, where i realised

we were once beautiful together but we’re not anymore.

an act of creation except it’s me on my own,

rewriting our love story and how i never saw it coming.

when i tell our story, sometimes i forget

about the yellow roses, the frosted glass and

the cobbled street where we fell in love, but i have never

forgot the lavender sky when you said goodbye.

when i tell our story, sometimes i forget to mention

how desperately in love i was, but sometimes

it’s all i can say: how it was winter and your arms

kept me warm, how i asked you to stay until the clouds fall.